


The Haunting of Adelle Dewitt

by BlackMamba



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 23:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMamba/pseuds/BlackMamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurence Dominic isn't the only one caught in a waking nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Haunting of Adelle Dewitt

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:: E is for Escape, Adelle/Laurence(Dollhouse)   
> Off Canon, Strong Sexual Content, Graphic Language, Dark Fic

"You can't trust him."

She doesn't look up. Laurence is just being Laurence, eyeing the world through his usual paranoid filter. Like a solider navigating landmines is how she'd describe it. Today the landmine is Paul Ballard's employment with the Dollhouse.

"I'm well aware of that fact Mr. Dominic." She shuffles papers, gathering her thoughts. Her hands are trembling but she doesn't want him to see.

"With all due respect, I don't think you are. You ignored me when I told you Echo was a threat…"

"That situation has been handled."

"But now the guy who made it his life's work to bring this place down is eating pork rinds in the cafeteria and pissing in the downstairs boy's room?"

She meets his eyes. "That's quite enough."

He moves closer, the deliberate blank face gone, twisting into something darker. "I don't think it is. How long you gonna run this place like a naïve brat that wants the kittens and puppies to play nice together?"

"You've jumped leaps and bounds out of your station Laurence."

He smiles. "I was never very good at staying put anyway."

The door opens and she rises to her feet. Boyd pauses on the way in and looks around the room.

"Can I help you Mr. Langton?"

"Yes I…" the file in his hand droops low as his brow furrows. "I thought I heard you speaking to someone."

She looks to his right. Laurence is smirking, amused. "You must have been mistaken."

~

She's leaning over the railing, watching. The dolls mill about in an almost serene rhythm, ebbing and flowing from one side of the room to the other.

Like the ocean.

"Or lab rats chasing cheese."

She doesn't look at him. He's standing so close his jacket brushes her shirt. "You're not real."

"Does saying that out loud help you cope?" Laurence turns around, his back facing the railing. He leans forward until she's forced to meet his eyes. "How _do_ you cope anyway?"

She looks away. Topher's watching her from the foot of the stairs. He forces a smile but she knows he's seen her talking to air. He moves towards Claire's office and Laurence laughs. "Uh oh, I think we're busted."

"They think I'm crazy." She rubs her temple.

"It's possible." He shrugs. "I mean, why wouldn't they think there's something going on inside that bitchy candy shell besides a sweet chocolate center?"

She glances in his direction. "Were you always this cheeky?"

"Maybe. Maybe I was the same tight ass in my everyday life that I was when I walked into that office." He turns around and props his arms up on the railing, matching her stance. "Nobody knows anybody in this place."

He moves closer, slips his arm around her waist and speaks low into her ear. "They sure as hell don't know you."

"Stop it."

"How do you think your little minions would feel if they found out what you did in your spare time?" He looks down below, at Victor reading a book. "Or _who_ you did." He meets her eyes again. "Or how you got this job in the first place."

"Don't."

"On your back. Just like every other pretty girl with a C+ average and a dream."

"Please." She closes her eyes. "Stop."

He leans closer. "When's the last time you slept Adelle?"

~

She's in the bed for two hours before her eyes grow heavy and she starts to drift off. But then the mattress sinks lower, as though someone's climbing on top. She opens her eyes as her wrists are pinned, her legs immobile beneath his thighs.

"You could yell, scream. Do something."

"This isn't…" She tries to move but he holds her tighter. "Get…off."

"Is that it?" He _tsks_, and presses his lips against ear. "November fought harder than this when you sent that psychotic fuck to kill her."

"That's not what I did…"

"You think she won't have nightmares?" He presses his groin between her legs, his erection digging into her stomach. "Some strange man throwing her around like a sack of potatoes. You really think all that's just _gone_?" He kisses her. Then bites down hard, breaking the skin. Blood fills her mouth, salty and metallic. He leans back, his lips smeared with red.

"You don't forget a man that makes you bleed."

"Please stop."

He captures both wrists in one hand and reaches lower between her legs. Her nightshirt's twisted around her waist and he dives beneath her underwear, to her sex. "I don't know Adelle. You're pretty damn wet right now, you sure you want me to?"

She closes her eyes and he pushes two fingers inside. Her body's reaction is immediate, warm liquid pooling onto his hand. "Look at me."

She shuts her eyes tighter.

"I said _look at me_."

She meets his eyes and he starts to fuck her with his fingers, his thumb raised, working her clit. "This is what you wanted isn't it? All that time…"

She spreads her legs wider and thrusts towards his hand. "_Yes_."

"Yes, but what? Didn't want to waste that blue blood snatch on the help? On some knuckle dragging idiot like me?" He removes his hand and reaches for his zipper. She has a moment's panic. Something that tells her to make it stop but then he's inside her. So deep it hurts. He withdraws and thrusts again, the pain blooming into pleasure.

"All that time." He thrusts faster. "All that time you wasted. All that fucking time…"

"Laurence..." It's the only word she can manage. He's shoved the nightshirt over her chest and his mouth is on her breasts, his teeth scraping against her nipple.

"All that time…" He finds her mouth and pushes his tongue inside. He makes a sound, a low grumble in his throat, and stops thrusting. He rolls his hips, grinding, still buried deep. Then he meets her eyes, his own dark blue with longing.

"You taste so sweet."

She reaches out, tries to touch his face.

But he's already gone.

~

"You should have seen the look on Victor's face!"

She's laughing. She can barely breathe she's laughing so hard and Laurence's face is bright red. She gestures across the desk, pointing at his chest. "I can't believe you actually gave up your gun."

"Well I was stoned out of my damn mind. And it _was_ pretty heavy." He leans forward and lowers his voice to an exaggerated whisper. "At least I didn't get it on with Topher Brink of all people."

"I did not _get it on_ with Topher." She pauses. "Though I do think he felt me up a bit." He laughs, long and loud. She covers her face with both hands. "Oh god, I ate so much junk. I was retching for a week."

"Ah, a little junk food is good for you. You know in the old neighborhood we used to call a chili dog the breakfast of champions."

"Oh that's disgusting."

He ticks off the words on his fingers. "You got your bread, your meat. Add some onions there's your vegetables…"

She laughs. And then it fades into a sob. She covers her mouth, eyes closed as tears slide down her cheeks. She opens them again and Laurence's chair is empty. He's standing at the window looking up at the sky.

"Looks like it's gonna rain."

~

Victor's watching her from the chair. His arms are bound and his eyes frantic, moving from her face to Boyd and Topher's. But always back to hers.

"We can't just send him to the attic." Boyd gestures towards him. "He's confused. Look at him, he doesn't understand what's going on."

"He tried to kill me." Topher kicks a broken computer. "He came in here and started screaming about being his best. He thinks I can fix him." He points at Victor's eyes, now narrowed with malice. "_Look_. You see that? _I can't fix that._ He's blank right now and he still hates me."

"It's not right. Not after everything he's been through."

"Not after he got you off two, four times in one night."

Laurence strolls around the room, his hands clasped behind his back. She blinks rapidly and focuses on Topher. "You're sure there's nothing we can do? Another wipe…a certain imprint maybe…"

"If he was wiped any cleaner he'd be invisible." He points at the scars crisscrossing Victor's face. "And no imprint's gonna fix _that_. Other than getting rid of all the mirrors in the house, I don't see any other options."

"You might as well do it Adelle." Laurence is behind her, playing with her hair. "You won't fuck him again anyway."

"Ms. Dewitt, is it my understanding that we just cast these people aside whenever we can't use them anymore? I doubt that's what he signed up for." Boyd looks at Victor, who leans back in the chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Laurence laughs. "This is the guy you replaced me with?"

"I can't work like this. I won't sit here in this office with a gun and cannoli. I need to feel safe. I don't feel safe."

"It's not just about you Topher."

"Yeah? I'm the one he attacked _Boyd_."

"What the hell is so hard Adelle?" Laurence's lips brush against her ear. "You know you can't bring him back. Then you'll have to explain the scars."

"That's your solution to everything. Someone hurts you, you take their soul."

"Wipe him Adelle."

"_Take their soul_? Have you been watching Constantine again?"

"Stop being a fucking coward. You put me in that wedge and never even blinked. Who the hell is _this_ guy?"

She can't breathe.

"Ms. Dewitt…"

"There's no other option…"

"DO IT!'

"STOP!" The room is silent, and her voice leaves an echo. Boyd looks at Topher who shakes his head, confused.

"Are you…" she moves away when Boyd reaches for her arm. "Are you alright?"

Her voice is ragged, hoarse as though she's been screaming. "Let him go."

She turns around and leaves the room.

~

The wedge is heavy in her hand. The house is dark, most of the staff having gone home for the evening. She walks into the room and closes the door behind her.

He's sitting there, staring at the far wall just like all the others. There's at least fifty but she might as well be alone. They've been wiped. Blank slates drawing air because it's all their bodies remember.

The chair is on the opposite side. She slides the wedge into place and walks to Laurence, her hands slippery with sweat. She touches his arm and he doesn't move. She grabs his elbow and pulls, which prompts his body to respond. It stumbles forward, following the hint of gravity she's caused, seeking stable ground again. And then he's in the chair, still and silent as she turns it on. It makes a soft hum as she lowers him down.

He screams. The room flashes with bright blue light and he howls as though he's being ripped apart.

Or put back together.


End file.
